


Stage Lights

by FrizzleFry



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Crying, Embarrassment, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 18:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13723257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrizzleFry/pseuds/FrizzleFry
Summary: It's the Un Poco Loco scene, except instead of singing Miguel pees himself and cries.There really isn't much else to say here. That's the whole story.





	Stage Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm still alive and doing stuff...been a while since the last thing I wrote...  
> Anyway I found a new obsession with Coco, so expect more of that. (Also some more smutty smut than borderline sfw omo)  
> This turned out really short, but...I didn't really feel the need to make it longer.

The stage lights were blindingly bright. Everything else was dark. He made out only faint silhouettes of people, staring at him. Intently. Burning holes into him. It was quiet. The silence was only occasionally interrupted by coughing and drunk yelling by people believing themselves to be more witty than they really were. It didn't help, as it rather amplified the silence, deafening and overwhelming as it already was.  
He looked over to Héctor, afraid and unsure. The visual cue to just shake it out was no real help however. He walked towards the microphone. Silence. No word. No sound. Nothing at all left his throat.  
He swallowed. He couldn't make out how the people looked at him. They were still silent. Still no word of recognition towards his appearance on the stage.  
He tried to breathe, but the air felt like it was pulled out of his lungs, replaced by a heavy weight pushing him towards the ground. A burning sensation on the inside of his body conflicted with the sheer cold engulfing him from the outside. One person in the audience called out for something that he couldn't quite make out. Not that he cared.  
He started shaking. He was frozen. He was burning. His breathing grew increasingly shallow.

Then he felt it. He didn't dare to look down, but he knew exactly what was happening as he felt the warm liquid trickle down his leg. His eyes shot open in shock. His cheeks grew red beneath his makeup. He tried to clench down, but to no avail. It didn't stop. A small puddle formed at his feet.  
'Away. Get away!' was his only thought, but he was firmly planted to the ground. Frozen in shock. He slowly managed to force himself to look down. A wet patch decorated his crotch. The cool air immediately seeped through the damp fabric. A shiver ran down his spine.  
He looked around in panic. The first thing he saw was Héctor looking back at him in a way he couldn't really interpret. The audience was still silent. Some seemed confused. Some stared at him. Soon he felt something else. The burning sensation of a tear running down his cheek, before dripping off his chin.  
Then he realized what this meant. This had been his ticket to Ernesto. This had been his only chance to get home.  
He tried to hold back his tears as much as possible, but he couldn't. They were flowing down his cheeks like rain. His eyes clenched shut, he wiped them away as best as possible and then -finally- he found the strength to move. And move he did. He ran. Off the stage. Past the confused Héctor calling for him to wait. Past the people staring at him. He made it to a dark alley, before the strength he had gathered left him and he sank to the ground slumped against a wall.

“Wait for me, chamaco!” Héctor called after him while catching up. “What happened up there?”  
“I blew it!” The boy yelled at him. “I blew it and now...” He teared up again. “Now...”  
“Shh… it's ok,” The man said, sitting down next to him and pulling him into a hug. “This could have happened to anyone… standing up there is scary...”  
The boy started sobbing.  
“I'm disgusting… at 12 you're not supposed to… to… pee yourself...”  
Héctor was stroking slow and soft circles on the boys back, who was by now pushing his face into his chest, still sobbing and sniffling.  
“You're not disgusting… it's totally ok...”  
“But… but now, I won't get to De la Cruz… this was… this was our one chance...”  
“We'll find another way… trust me… it's gonna be ok.”  
For a while they just sat there while Miguel kept crying and Héctor kept comforting him. After a while the sobs seemed to quiet down and the boy looked up at the man.  
“My face paint is all messed up now...”  
“We can fix that.” Héctor smiled at him. “It'll be fine.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this brief venture into the land of piss and the dead.  
> Stay tuned for more and leave some feedback if you want to.


End file.
